


See My Future Coming (Like the Rising of the Tide)

by the_bookwyrm



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Non-Consensual Drug Use, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Season/Series 01, Psychological Trauma, Sibling Bonding, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Trauma Recovery, discussion of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bookwyrm/pseuds/the_bookwyrm
Summary: There’s silence, for a moment, and nobody breaks it. They all sit there together, bending under the weight of her apologies and the actions that she’ll never be able to take back.No one has touched the snacks.Vanya wakes up a day after the apocalypse, seventeen years in the past.It is, she has to admit, a surprise. But now there are some decisions she has to make.





	1. so this ain’t the end

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> Welcome to my first fic for the Umbrella Academy! 
> 
> My beta for this is my wonderful amazing friend [m_class](https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_class/pseuds/m_class)! She's absolutely spectacular and if you like Star Trek you should go check her out! Without her help this would be an absolute hot mess, so I thank her for her sacrifice!
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoy!

Vanya wakes up, which is—well. It’s definitely a surprise, that she can admit.

What’s even more surprising is the fact that from what she can feel, even before she opens her eyes, she’s in a bed, not back on the floor in the vault. But it’s not her bed in her apartment. It feels like her bed at the Academy. Well, if her siblings knocked her out again instead of killing her like she’d expected, and haven’t been able to fix the vault, maybe they put her in her bed instead, to keep an eye on her. But—wait a minute.

Vanya’s eyes fly open, and she stares at the dark ceiling. She _destroyed_ the Academy. She walked out and left it crumbled into ruins behind her. How is this _possible_?

Time travel; it has to be. Five must have brought them back to the past, before she’d destroyed the Academy. But how on earth did Five manage to bring all of them with him? And why did they bring _her_ ? The last thing she remembers is them trying to  _kill_ her!

She brings a hand up to her head, rubbing her face, and freezes when she reaches her forehead.

Are those _bangs_?

She hasn’t had bangs in literal years! Slowly, Vanya sits up in the bed, and turns to look over at her mirror. From what she can see in the light from her window, she’s a teenager again. Or that’s what it looks like, anyway. Did the same thing that happened to Five when he time traveled happen to them? Or are they back in the past?

Finally managing to look away from the mirror, she looks around her room, and instantly knows the answer to that question. She’s back in her old room, her first one, from before Dad moved her to the top floor with Ben, at which point Klaus had made it part of his. They’re back in their childhood; back in the past. But why would Five have brought them back this far? Did her siblings actually intend for them all to live their lives over again, or is this just a temporary thing, until they figure out what to do?

And what on earth _happened_ , to make this necessary? The last thing she remembers is hearing Allison behind her; feeling the gun. But she’d refused to turn around—she had hurt Allison enough already. She’d _refused_ to do it again. She’d been angry with her brothers—so angry, for so many reasons, and they were trying to kill her, anyway—and she was angry with Allison too, but mostly she was sad.

So she’d let Allison shoot her—only she hadn’t, had she? No, she’d shot the gun next to her ear instead, and the sound had been so loud it had eclipsed everything else. And that burst of energy, combined with all of the other power she’d been gathering, had been _so powerful_ she hadn’t been able to contain it—it had exploded out of her—

What had it hit? What had she _done_?

Five had said the apocalypse was coming. In eight days.

Where had she seen the beam go, before she passed out? Out the skylight. But there was nothing there, nothing that could’ve explained—

The moon.

Vanya curls in on herself, tangling her hands in her hair. Had she hit the moon? But that was absurd! Even if she had hit the moon, there was no way that she was powerful enough for it to _do_ anything. Unless she was? If the energy she released was powerful enough to destroy the moon, and it crashed into the planet—well. That would certainly be apocalyptic, wouldn’t it?

_She can’t breathe_.

Vanya scrambles out of bed, running to the window. It opens quietly, just like she remembers, and she clambers out onto the fire escape, staring up at the sky and heaving deep breaths in and out.

She had destroyed the world.

Five had been alone for _forty-five years_ because she had destroyed the world. Because she’d killed literally every single person on the planet.

It had been _her_.

 

* * *

When she finally comes down from her panic attack, Vanya finds herself curled into a ball in the corner of the fire escape, tears still streaming down her face and hands in her hair. No one’s there, not that she expected them to be.

She learned how to cry silently as a child.

And, just from the fact that she was able to have a panic attack but not destroy anything while doing so, she knows it’s been a while since her childhood body has taken a pill. Her emotions were always the strongest before the next dose. Not that that means much, now that she knows what real emotions feel like. When she knows exactly what her father did to her.

Because he’d been _afraid_.

But hadn’t he been right to be, in the end? Look at what she did! She destroyed everything, and for what! Because she’d been mad that her siblings had interrupted her concert?!

But they hadn’t been alone, either. There had been those gunmen—but it hadn’t seemed like they’d been shooting at her. None of the bullets had come near her, even though she’d been out in the open on the stage. They’d all been aimed at her siblings, not at her, and she hadn’t done anything to help them, had she? No, she’d been so swept up in the music, in the sound, in the _rage_ that she’d felt when her brothers had attacked her _again_ , during her concert—

No wonder they were scared of her too.

But why had there been gunmen? Why on earth had they attacked the concert?

Were they only after her siblings, like the two masked intruders at the Academy? That couldn’t have been it, because they hadn’t attacked her too.

Had they known about the apocalypse?

And, if they’d known about the apocalypse, and they hadn’t been attacking her...had they wanted the apocalypse to happen? Had they been there because she was about to cause the apocalypse, even without Allison’s gunshot, if she’d gotten enough energy? Were they trying to ensure that she did?

She can’t think of another plausible explanation for their presence. Which means that somewhere out there, someone wanted—wants—wanted the apocalypse to happen. Wanted _her_ to happen.

And now that she’s calmed down; has had enough time to get out of the cycle of rage and fear and panic; the question is—does she want that to happen?

No. No, she doesn’t. Her father being an abusive jackass and her siblings being idiotic self-righteous back-stabbing _jerks_ and her boyfriend being a manipulative murderous _asshole_ didn’t mean that she wanted everyone to die. She hadn’t even wanted her siblings to die, not really. She’d just… she’d wanted…

What _had_ she wanted?

Attention, definitely. Proof that her father had been wrong about her; that she wasn’t ordinary after all.

For her siblings to have come to the concert _for her_ , not just to stop her.

Love. She’d wanted to be loved.

But apparently that wasn’t allowed, or she’d cause the literal end of the world.

So. What does she do now?

Vanya straightens up, before she does anything else, and stretches a bit. She isn’t sure how long she’s been curled into a ball panicking, but it’s been long enough to make her stiff. Moving to the railing, she sits down, dangling her legs between the bars and over the ledge. Then she rests her head against the bar in front of her, closing her eyes again.

The apocalypse has to be stopped; it can’t happen; she won’t _let_ it. Which, ultimately, means that _she_ needs to be stopped. Her brothers had been trying, at the concert, but she hadn’t understood; had thought they were attacking her out of revenge for the house; for Allison and Pogo.

What are they thinking now? Why isn’t she dead already? She’s clearly been unconscious for a while, if it has been this long between doses.

Maybe they wanted to see if she’d come back with them. She’d been unconscious, after all. Maybe they were afraid that she hadn’t come at all, and hadn’t wanted to kill their young, still-innocent sister. Or at least had wanted to wait and see which one woke up.

Or is she the only one in the past? And if she is…what on earth will she do then? If Five sent her back, why would he have sent her on her own?

Or maybe they had wanted to drug her even more. Make her even foggier; less aware that she’d been in the future. Keep her under control in case they needed a last-resort weapon.

A few tears slip down Vanya’s cheeks.

No, she refuses to believe that. They wouldn’t do that to her. They’d lock her in a box until they decided what to do with her, they’d try to kill her for the good of the world, but they wouldn’t use her as a weapon.

Not to mention that it just wouldn’t be _safe_ , not if she got free again.

So, they’ve probably just decided to wait to see who would wake up.

And if she is alone, by herself in the past? Well. She’ll deal with that in the morning.

Sitting on a fire escape under the cold light of a moon that still exists, a day after the apocalypse she caused and also seventeen years in the past, Vanya begins to plan.


	2. the beating of our hearts is the only sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya begins to gather together the things that she needs for the Plan.

Vanya’s the first to breakfast. Back in the actual past, that wouldn’t have been too surprising. She’s always been a light sleeper, and it was usually either she or Klaus who were the first ones down. She’d liked to help Mom with breakfast; it was the only meal the seven of them were allowed to eat alone, without their dad, in the kitchen. It had always felt like something of an oasis before the rest of the day hit them.

Today it’s because she hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. She’d sat out on the fire escape for a long time, and although she’d eventually made her way back inside, sleep hadn’t come. So, about thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off, Vanya had turned it off and gotten up. Even now, getting ready for the day is etched into her muscle memory, and it hadn’t taken her long at all to get downstairs. She’d made her way down the back stairs, and let herself sit down on them when she’d seen Mom humming in the kitchen.

Mom. How could she have forgotten Mom? Her complicated feelings about Mom and her creator didn’t matter, not really; she was still Vanya’s _mom_ , the only one who had ever really loved her violin; who’d encouraged her every step of the way; who’d helped her pack even though Vanya could tell that she hadn’t wanted her to go.

Vanya loves her, and she’d barely had time to miss her after she’d died—after she’d been killed by those two weirdos who had attacked the Academy—and now here she is, alive again. Like nothing had ever happened.

Vanya wipes away her tears and makes her way into the kitchen before Mom can see her crying on the stairs.

“Mom?”

Mom turns around from the stove and smiles at Vanya happily. “Darling! Good morning! I’m so glad that you’re awake; we were all very worried when you were asleep for so long. Your father almost postponed his trip! Let me check your temperature.” Vanya holds still as her mom places a hand on her forehead, the sensors in her palm buzzing as they read the temperature of Vanya’s skin.

“What trip, Mom? And how long was I asleep?”

“Oh silly, don’t you remember? He’s on a business trip this weekend! He’ll be arriving home tomorrow.” Mom smiles at Vanya and smooths a hand over her hair. “You’ve been sleeping since lunch the day before yesterday, but your temperature is back within your normal range, darling, so you should be just fine!”

“Thanks, Mom; I’m feeling much better today, I promise. Um, actually…” Mom places her hands on Vanya’s shoulders and smiles down at her, and it gives Vanya the courage to keep going. “I was hoping that I could help you make breakfast today? If that’s okay, I mean.”

“If you’re feeling up to it, I would love the help! I was thinking pancakes today; does that sound good, dear?”

Vanya smiles at her. “That sounds great, Mom.”

* * *

Forty-five minutes later Vanya hears a herd of elephants making its way down the stairs, and knows that her time is up; it’s the moment of truth.

Her siblings burst into the kitchen, all of them panicked-looking, and Vanya knows. They’ve all come into the past with her, and when she wasn’t in her room this morning, they freaked out.

They all pause as they make their way into the kitchen, and it feels like time freezes as they stare her down.

She knows that they’re wondering if she came back, or if it’s truly her child self standing in the kitchen. That they’re wondering if she’s planning to attack them again.

Vanya stares back at them, sweeping her eyes over them as they stand in a row; taking in the faces that she hasn’t seen all together in seventeen years.

Luther is watching her warily, and Vanya can tell that he’s waiting for her to make a move; prove that she’s just as ready to attack now as she was in the future. Diego has one hand behind his back, and she knows that he’s holding a knife in a ready position. Allison has tears in her eyes and a hand over her mouth, and although she looks happy, Vanya can’t help wondering if she’s worried about losing her voice again; about going through that pain.

Five is eyeing her, but his face is blank in a way that is familiar despite their long separation; Vanya knows he’s running calculations in his mind, trying to be ready for however the attack might come; ready to jump out of the way. Klaus is smiling at her, but it’s not really a happy smile. And he’s holding someone’s hand—

And she looks over and she sees—Ben. Ben, her second favorite brother after Five; Ben who she’s been mourning for almost twelve years now; and she knows that this will prove that she came back, that she’s blowing her cover, but she _doesn’t care because right there is_ —

“Ben! You’re here!”

She doesn’t move to him, though, because at her words all of her siblings look even more tense, and she doesn’t want to make things worse. So she smiles at him instead; does her best to make it as sincere as possible, and says, “I’m so glad to see you.”

Ben smiles back at her, although she can tell it’s a little tight, and nods. He doesn’t let go of Klaus’s hand, and he doesn’t step towards her. No one else says anything.

Vanya has no way of knowing how long the standoff would have lasted if Mom hadn’t stepped in. “Well, sillies, don’t just stand in the door! Come sit down; eat some pancakes! Your sister and I made them especially for you today.” Luther looks a little alarmed at that, and Vanya is a bit relieved to see that he’s the only one. Everyone makes their way to the table and sits down to eat.

There’s a tense silence at the breakfast table, and although Vanya keeps her head down she can feel her siblings staring at her. They seemed puzzled, almost, as to why she hasn’t confronted them, or freaked out, or tried to bring the house down. She snorts under her breath, and pretends not to notice when that small sound makes them all jerk their heads up to look at her.

Finally breakfast is over, and they all take their dishes up to the sink and wash them, one by one. She thinks this might be the surest proof that they all came back with her—it used to be that they’d fight to not have to do their dishes, or they’d make excuses about training and leave them all for Vanya and Mom to do. But they do it without arguing; without even talking about it.

Vanya smiles, very slightly, to herself. She’s last in line, and when it’s her turn she bends her head over the sink and very studiously ignores her siblings’ hissed whispers behind her. They fall silent as soon as she turns around, and after another long, tense silence Mom turns around to smile at all of them.

“All right children, it’s time for your morning classes!”

* * *

Vanya does not have class with the others. With the knowledge she now possesses, she knows that it’s one more way her father was separating her from the others; making sure she was beaten down and unquestioning. Mom teaches her, usually, and Pogo teaches the others, although they do switch quite often, depending on the subject, and also on how rowdy her siblings are being on any given day. Mom usually handles them better when they’re rowdy.

It’s been a long time since Vanya learned most of this material, but it’s easy enough to fall back into the routine, and she was always quiet, anyway. Even so, when classes end, Vanya takes the out gratefully. Just because she can do the material doesn’t mean that it’s fun to do so.

Normally, she would spend the hour before lunch on Sundays exercising, but since she’s just woken up from her “illness,” Mom excuses her to go practice her violin instead. She flees quickly, moving back to the somewhat dubious safety of her small room.

However, once she’s in her room with the door shut and the violin case in front of her on the bed, she hesitates. She knows, logically, that the violin won’t be white. It’ll be the same warm brown it’s been her entire life, and it won’t have any blood on it, and everything will be _fine_.

But what if it’s not?

What if playing it triggers something that she can’t stop, now that she knows the truth?

So, in the end, she puts the case under her bed without opening it and takes a nap instead.

* * *

Lunch is just as quiet as breakfast was, it turns out. None of Vanya’s siblings are taking the opportunity to talk, even with their dad gone, and instead seem to be content to exchange glances whenever they’re not staring at her or eating. Vanya keeps her head down, as she did at breakfast, and refuses to look at them. She’s so grateful that their dad isn’t here.

She has no idea how she’d react, coming face to face with him for the first time in years, now that she knows the truth. She’s glad she won’t have to find out.

After the very, very awkward lunch, Pogo comes to collect them all for their study time. They always spent the hour or so after lunch in the library, studying or working on their homework, before the others went to classes and training, and Vanya to more classes by herself.

Study time today is even more awkward than lunch, impossible as that had seemed. None of them care about the homework—they’re adults long grown up and out of this house—and Pogo and Mom leave them alone to attend to their own duties, which means that they’re alone together for the first time since Vanya woke up.

All of which means that Vanya isn’t surprised when she looks up from her book to see all six of her siblings staring at her, not even bothering to pretend to be studying. She sighs and puts her book down; it’s very obvious she won’t get to keep reading it.

“What do you remember, Vanya?” Five’s voice is brisk, matter of fact, which almost hides the fact that his hands are tightly clenched into fists.

Vanya studies them all one more time before sighing again. “I remember everything, up until I passed out.” She frowns, then adds, “You don’t need to worry, though. I’m not going to attack you.”

“How can we believe you?” Luther scoffs, and Vanya is surprised to see Allison whack him on the arm.

Vanya shrugs in response. “I guess you can’t? I can’t prove that I won’t; all I can do is promise that I’m telling the truth.” She shifts in her seat, wrapping her arms around herself and glancing down. At least it looks like her siblings will help her with the plan tonight; all of them seem to be suspicious of her, which will work out pretty well.

“I believe you,” Allison says forcefully, and smiles at Vanya brightly. “And we’re all very glad that you’re awake!”

Vanya is a little surprised to see the others all nod in agreement, but she supposes that knowing she’s her adult self is a relief to them, even if they did end up with the Vanya that ended the world. After all, this saves them the awkwardness of trying to figure out how to tell young Vanya what the hell is going on.

“Well…thanks, I think?” Vanya drums her fingers on her book for a minute before scanning her siblings’ faces and sighing again. “I know you guys want to talk, but can we just…wait?”

Luther looks almost offended. “Vanya, we need to deal with this—”

“I know!” Vanya cries, closing her eyes tightly and taking a deep breath in before opening them. “I know,” she continues softly, “but I just woke up this morning and I need to _think_. Please.”

Allison is the one who answers her again, after sending a quick glare around the group. “Of course you can have some time to think, Vanya.”

Vanya sighs in relief. “Thank you.” She pauses, then makes herself continue. She has to go forward with her plan, for the good of everything. “Will all of you meet me tonight, in the conservatory, at eleven?”

They all nod, but Five is the one who meets her eyes squarely and answers aloud, “We’ll be there.”

* * *

On Sundays, Vanya’s siblings have group training all afternoon. Since Dad is gone, Pogo is leading them, which means that she won’t have to deal with them until dinner at least; Pogo doesn’t usually use her in their training. And since her dad’s gone, she has a little more freedom than she usually does, which is why she makes her way over to her mom right away.

“Mom?” Mom is finishing up a batch of cookie dough, a special treat they usually got on Sundays, and she turns to Vanya and smiles.

“Vanya! What can I help you with, dear? Are you feeling poorly again?”

Vanya shakes her head quickly. “No, Mom, I just was hoping for a favor?”

Mom sets the bowl down and leans down to look Vanya in the eye. “What favor, darling?”

“I wanted to go to the corner store and buy marshmallows. I noticed we were running low, and I was hoping to make sandwiches soon. And it’s such a lovely day outside…” Vanya lets herself trail off and fidget hopefully, staring into her mom’s eyes before looking down and blushing. Her mom looks at her for another moment, then turns and looks at the shelf, where a visibly full bag of marshmallows is sitting. Vanya tries not to blush harder.

She remembers doing this when she’d been an actual child, when she hadn’t been out of the Academy in so long she thought she might actually explode from staring at the same things every day. Her mother had almost always let her get away with it, and she hopes that she’ll do the same today.

Finally, Mom smiles at her again and pats her head precisely three times, just like always, and Vanya lets herself relax. “Alright, darling. Let me just go get some change for you; after all, we most certainly don’t want to run out of marshmallows!”

* * *

Vanya makes her way down the street, watching the people around her as she goes. None of them know what’s coming; what she’ll do to them. And, if everything goes correctly tonight, they never will. So she buys what she needs from the corner store, and hurries back to the academy. After letting her mom know she’s back, Vanya heads to her room, where she’s supposed to practice her violin.

However, just like before lunch, she can’t stand the thought of opening the case. Instead, she hides the bag from the store under her bed and makes her way up to the roof. She doesn’t go into the greenhouse—that was always Luther and Allison’s space—instead making her way over to a patch of sunlight near the edge of the roof, laying down in it and closing her eyes.

She hasn’t taken her pills since waking up in the past, and so she decides that she’s going to take this chance to do something she only got to do a bit in the future: she’s going to listen.

She’s pretty sure that without the pills her hearing is better than most people’s; not that she’d had much of a chance to find out, in the future, what with everything going on. And she won’t have much of a chance to try later, either, so now’s as good a time as any.

So she keeps her eyes closed and she _listens_.

* * *

A few hours later, Vanya is completely sure that her hearing is better than anyone’s should be, and also sure that she has no idea what her range even is, a conclusion she comes to after realizing she is eavesdropping on a conversation between two flight attendants on a plane that is _in flight_ at the time.

The problem, she’s finding, is that even after she finds a sound, she can’t concentrate on it. She can hear _so much_ now that when she’s not in the middle of a life-threatening situation or a panic attack she can’t concentrate on just one sound. As soon as she finds something interesting to listen to, something else catches her attention. And she has no way of judging distance, either; for all she knows, she could be listening to a conversation across the street or one across the city. She suspects being out in the forest the first time helped quite a bit, as there weren’t as many sounds screaming for her attention; screaming for her to use them.

Even so, she finds that she’s enjoying herself. Part of it, of course, is that she still hasn’t taken a pill yet, so she’s experiencing some true emotions. The rest of it is because the longer she works at this, the more relaxed she feels, like she’s had a stiff muscle and is stretching it out for the first time. Like it’s a limb she should have been using her whole life.

She also thinks that she might be lucky, because she’s pretty sure that unless she’s actively trying to listen for sounds, her hearing is just a little better than normal—she hadn’t had much trouble in the future with it, anyway.

She stops, eventually, once she gets tired of hearing snippets of conversation and news and dogs barking and everyday city sounds. She’s pretty sure she even caught some noise from inside the Academy, too, but she did her best not to listen to it. She doesn’t need to risk anything setting her off before tonight.

And once she’s done she heads back inside, back to her room, where she finishes getting ready for the plan.

* * *

Dinner is a little better than the previous meals of the day; now that they feel they have something of a plan, her siblings don’t seem to be as on edge as they were earlier; aren’t as concerned that she’ll attack them at any second. It’s…well. It’s actually almost nice. With their dad gone, they’re not reprimanded for talking, so the low murmur of conversation fills the room. And since they all look so young right now, Vanya is filled with a sense of nostalgia. She can’t imagine what Five is feeling; how much more intense this must be for him, to see all of his siblings the same age they were when he left.

She tries to enjoy it; tries to enjoy the food and the company without thinking about the underlying tension; without letting herself remember exactly _why_ they’re here; and it almost works.

Chores after dinner go…about as well as they ever did, honestly. None of them enjoy doing them, but then again, they never did in the first place either, and at least if Vanya’s siblings are keeping busy they’re not _panicking_ , which is all to the good, as far as Vanya is concerned.

And then, finally, finally, it’s time for bed. Vanya brushes her teeth and puts on her pajamas in a bit of a rote daze; she knows that if she panics everything will go very badly, so she refuses to let herself panic. Her siblings move around her, in and out of the bathrooms and each others’ rooms, all of them keeping an eye on her as she moves down the hallway to her own room.

She shuts the door behind her before getting into the bed and waiting. Mom always came to say goodnight to them, and Vanya wants to say goodnight to her too.

She comes in at 9:30, after knocking three times on the door, as always. “Hello, darling. How are you feeling?” Sitting on the side of the bed, she places her hand on Vanya’s forehead to take her temperature again.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Vanya says, staring at Mom’s perfect, unchanging face. Maybe she doesn’t have any real emotions, maybe Diego’s right and she has grown past her programming, but either way, Grace deserves better than what she’s had all these years. “Mom, I love you. You know that, right?”

Her mom’s face goes blank for a moment, and when she smiles again it’s smaller than normal; a little more real. “And I love you too, dear.” She bends down and kisses Vanya on the forehead, and Vanya closes her eyes and allows herself to soak in the affection one more time.


End file.
